My hair whips around my face as I speed down the sparsely populated streets on my black motorcycle. The delicate package in my coat pocket feels bulky and I'm careful not to crush it anymore than I already have. I don't have a lot of time to waste. If I was any good at this kinda stuff I woulda planned on picking it up yesterday instead of waiting until the last minute. But in my defense, it's not like I've ever done this before.
I pull my bike into the driveway of the Revello Drive home and kick the stand down so my motorcycle doesn't topple over. I look up at the house and smile to myself. It still feels kind of surreal being here. Fuck, sometimes it feels surreal to still be alive.
I push through the front door and pull off my heavy boots, setting them on the welcome mat in the foyer. I remember Joyce always tried to keep the house tidy, demons be damned, so I work hard to keep up that tradition. I tug the small, crushable plastic container from my pocket and set it on the wooden table just within the doorway.
"Faith?" a girlish voice calls out from upstairs. I've learned quickly that it's hard to sneak home undetected around this one. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, Dawn," I yell up the staircase. "You almost ready?"
"Just a few more minutes," she promises. If I were a bettin' kinda girl I'd wager she's still got a good half an hour of primping to go. I know how those Summers girls are when it comes to gettin' dolled up. Every hair must be in its place.
"Did you get it?" the brunette teenager bellows down to me. I still can't see her yet. She's probably standing in the bathroom, just staring at herself in the big vanity mirror. I guess I can't blame her for wanting to look perfect, though. It is a big day – for a teenager at least. And if anything, I've worked hard to give her some semblance of normality.
"Yeah," I yell. "It was one of the last ones, so don't blame me if it's a little crushed."
Her head pokes over the railing. "You didn't crush it on your bike, didn't you?" she asks, her face lined with worry.
"D," I soothe. "Don't worry about it, okay? It looks just fine."
Her head disappears again and I groan. Alright, maybe she's got more than another half an hour of primping. Seriously, how many times can you fix your make-up or flatiron your hair?
The doorbell rings behind me and I groan again, this time louder. "Dawn?" I call up the stairs again. "Your date is here!"
Her head pops out again. "Just a few more minutes," she uselessly promises. "Could you get that for me?" she pleads, batting her heavily mascara'd eyelashes at me. "And don't scare him!"
I grumble under my breath, but open the front door. Standing on the front porch is a gangly-looking kid whose lookin' mighty anxious. He looks stiff in his black tux like he's never worn one before, and he keeps shifting the plastic box with the corsage from one hand to the other.
"Ya gonna come in, or what?" I laugh after a few painful seconds.
The kid manages to squeak out a little smile of gratitude. "Oh, uh, thanks Ms. Lehane."
"It's Faith," I bark as the teen walks into the house. "How many times do I have to tell ya that, Tony?"
"S-sorry, Faith," the poor boy sputters. I like to give him a hard time, but he's a pretty harmless kid as far as teenage boys go.
"So the Prom, eh?" I leer as I close the door behind him. "Don't get any funny ideas, cause Dawnie's not like that."
His blue eyes are wide and I can tell he's afraid I'm gonna toss him out the front door. I might have done that the first time I caught them making out in the living room. "Not in this house," I had snarled as he went hurtling through the air. I didn't worry too much about tossin' him though; the grass on the lawn is soft and teenage boys always have a knack for bouncing.
I hear the sound of someone clearing their voice, interrupting me scaring Tony just a little more. We both look up towards the staircase and see Dawn making her grand entrance. She's wearing the strappy lilac-colored dress we spent hours upon hours looking for. If I never have to go dress shopping with her again, I'll be a happy camper. Her dark brown hair is flat-ironed just so, with half of it pinned up in one of those fancy updos you see in Seventeen or YM. She's a little wobbly coming down the staircase in the high-heels she insisted she was old enough to wear, but I'm not worried. She'll get used to 'em before the night is through.
"Y-You look great, Dawn," Tony bumbles next to me. I force back the snicker I can feel bubbling up in my throat. Like I said, the kid's not so bad as teenage boys go.
Dawn flushes pink a little from her date's stumbling compliment and then looks expectantly at me. My eyes search around the foyer frantically cause for the hell of me I can't remember where I put that stupid plastic box. When my eyes finally rest on the slightly crushed container, I grab it and shove it toward the brunette. Who woulda thought that Faith the bad ass Vampire Slayer would be pickin' up flowers for the Prom.
I watch anxiously as Dawn pins the boutonniere on the slightly taller teen's lapel. We practiced a few times beforehand, but I'm still nervous. The kid didn't exactly get Slayer grace, and I'm worried about Tony bleeding out all over the foyer rug. Xander just had it steam-cleaned.
"I know I said be home before sunset," I begin with a grimace. The two look up from their flower fumbling to glance over at me. I'm a little overprotective when it comes to this girl. "But you guys can stay out later tonight." I shrug, trying to not make a big deal about it. "I mean, how many times does a girl get to go to Prom, right?"
Dawn unexpectedly tosses her arms around me and squeals in excitement. "Oh my God! Thank you, Faith!" The kid's got a set of lungs on her, that's for sure. I might be deaf now in my left ear.
I squeeze her back a little when the ringing in my ears subsides. "Yeah, yeah," I mumble. "Just be safe, okay?" I pause, thinking maybe I should keep the next thought to myself, but I can't help it when the words stumble out: "They would have been so proud of you," I murmur in her ear.
Dawn leans back from the hug, and I can see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I don't have to say who "they" are, because she knows I mean her mom and Buffy.
So here's the part of the story where I tell you what happened.
That night, about three months ago now, Angel found me just in time – before I died from loss of blood, that is. But not before I had dusted the vampire-in-Buffy-clothing. He told me later that Cordelia had received a vision that she'd interpreted as me being turned by Buffy, so he'd raced over to the Red Dragon to find me. I don't think the Powers were fooled though. I think they just needed Angel over there as my backup, knowing that I'd be in no shape afterwards.
I was hospitalized for a few weeks because of my injuries and my mental instability. Since I'd been in the hospital so recently due to blood loss, the doctors were worried I was a suicide risk. It's probably a good thing they were so cautious with me because who knows what I would have done if they'd released me after my physical wounds had healed. I was wicked messed up for a while. Lost large chunks of time and all that.
Angel, Cordelia, and the rest of the Los Angeles gang came to visit me everyday while I was in the ICU and then later in the psych ward. Gotta give them a whole lotta credit. If any of them had been as bitchy and reckless as I had, I don't think I woulda been jumpin' on the Get Well Soon bandwagon like they all did. And Angel and I had some really deep conversations about everything in my cell of a room. About Life. About Love. About Loss. But mostly about Buffy.
He wasn't upset with me for…for killing her. Once I told him that she'd lost her soul again, he looked almost relieved. He gave me a tight hug, which is totally not like him, and told me how strong I had been to be able to do what he wouldn't have been man enough to do. And he said something to me that blew my mind at the time – he said what I did proved that I loved her more than he ever did.
I was released from the temporary mental ward after I'd convinced the doctors I wasn't gonna Off myself. Then word got back to us at the LA office that Willow had gone off the magical deep end. After the major fuck-up with Buffy and the vampire juice, Red got swallowed up by magic. Really dark shit, too from what I hear.
She became obsessed with finding a way to bring Buffy back the right way, and Tara dumped her. That made it even worse, and from what Xander tells me, they nearly lost her. I hear Willow's doing okay now though; she's in England with a coven there helping her wean herself off of the dark stuff. Magic rehab, I guess.
Once it was clear that Willow wasn't coming back for a while, what was left of the Scoobs persuaded me to come back to Sunnydale. They weren't so much concerned about watching the Hellmouth, but more worried about Dawn. Giles and Xander are still here, of course, but neither of them was really equipped to take care of a teenage girl. I mean, not that I am either, but at least I don't blush a million shades of red when the kid runs out of tampons.
So I'm back to fighting the good fight. Back to protecting the Hellmouth and being one of the good guys. And you might ask yourself why I'm doing it – why I would come back to this town filled with so many miserable memories.
Because I know it's what Buffy would have wanted.
"Uh, so should we go?" Dawn's prom date squeaks out uncomfortably. I let go of Dawn and she gives me a really watery smile. Shit. Now I think I might start crying too.
I shoo them away with my hands before the waterworks starts and everyone's mascara is ruined. "Everybody out!" I bellow, not wanting them to see how all this bonding has turned me softer than a marshmallow.
I walk the young couple out the front door and holler out s'more threats to Dawn's date, just to make myself feel better. "I mean it, Tony," I call out from my position on the front porch. "Keep your hands to yourself, or I'll arrange for your hands to be physically removed from your stubby little arms."
Dawn flashes me a look of warning and I give her a dimpled grin in return. Sometimes this 'parenting' stuff is hella fun. Her date looks wicked uneasy as he opens the door for Dawn, and she slides into the passenger side of his parent's Buick.
I lean against the door jam and give a curt nod when I see Dawn waving spastically back up at me. She's a good kid. Awkward as hell, and all kinds of whiney at times, but she's got a good soul.
As I watch the two pull out of the driveway and slowly crawl down the street and out of sight, I fish around in the one of the potted plants for my hidden pack of cigarettes and lighter. Dawn hates that I smoke. It's the one last vice I've got though, so I try to be sneaky about it. I'll have the occasional drink once in a while, but Jack Daniels and I aren't as familiar friends as we used to be. And I can't remember the last time I had someone in my bed…No, I take that back. I can, but I'm not ready to really think about her in the past tense just yet.
I'm not gonna pull your leg and say that all of this is easy.
Slaying, saving the world? That's the easy part – that just comes naturally.
But Life? That's a battle that tests me like no apocalypse can.
A very smart woman once said that the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. And when I'm laying alone in her old bedroom at night is when it hits me the hardest. You might think me a masochist for staying in her room instead of Mrs. S's old digs, but I do what I can to keep her alive, at least in my mind.
Because there's one thought – one truth – that gets me through the days and makes this Hell a little less painful.
Because I know now.
I know that Buffy loved me.
FIN